Traffic Lights

There is a certain

Kind of feeling which cannot be


Like the feeling when it rains, or

When someone you love

Dies—one which goes

Beyond words, beyond expression.

Feelings which can

Only be understood

In the rain

After death.

These are the feelings

Which will move

A person

To sit in the abandoned

Lobby of a library,

Sad music pumping through

Their headphones. She waits

As the time ticks by,

Closer. And closer.

And closer.

To the end. Through a

Window she watches

The traffic lights


From red to green

To yellow to red.

Mechanical movements

Continue, even as

Her heart has stopped.

Everything around her

Fades but those lights.

Green. Yellow. Red.



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